


Dealing with a Marauder

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-23
Updated: 2007-05-07
Packaged: 2019-01-19 19:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12416541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: I sighed. How did I get here again? Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot my wand and James Potter was born. Lily makes a deal witH James Potter, notorious Marauder. Will Hogwarts lose all sense of sanity? An LJ Fic featuring much Maruader fun. Read & Review!





	1. Those Without Wands Be Warned

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Dealing with a Marauder

 

Chapter One: Those Without Wands Be Warned (in which Lily contemplates the beginning of the end)

 

I honestly don’t know how I get myself into these situations. No one else seems to. It’s always me. The perfectionist, fiery, redheaded goody-two-shoes. Everyone else, for example, an enter a toilet cubicle without the toilet paper deciding to go on vacation. Unfortunately, I am me (smart cookie, aren’t I?), and I find myself in that very situation on what is proving to be a rather terrible Thursday lunchtime.

 

Normally, being a witch and all, I’d just use magic to conjure some toilet paper. But naturally, the day I find myself in this somewhat terrifying situation is the one day I’ve (stupidly) left my wand sitting on my bed. I repeat: smart cookie, aren’t I?

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”�

 

Not much point saying that out loud, since the bathroom is empty, but the situation just calls for verbalising obscenities.

 

My mum always says how cursing gets you nowhere.

 

I contemplated this for a while. 

 

She’s right. Here I am, still stuck in my cubicle. Damn eh? Using the ‘f’ word hasn’t gotten me out of here.

 

Which I must do. I must scheme to get out of this goddamn toilet cubicle — I mean, I can’t stay here forever, right?

 

No, I definitely can’t. Ew, I can’t believe I just actually considered living in a toilet cubicle for my whole life.

 

Okay — so back to me getting out of here. Realistically, I have two options.

 

Option one: Be disgusting (no details are really required here) and just skip that step in my bathroom procedure.

 

Option two: Wait until someone enters the bathroom and ask them to pass me some.

 

Being Lily Evans, I’m taking a liking to the second option — it presents a higher level of personal hygiene, and a perfectionist needs her (or his) hygiene. 

 

Hm. Seems rather unproductive sitting here doing nothing.

 

Five minutes…

 

Oh goodie, the bell for the end of lunch just went.

 

Sweet Merlin, thankyou. As I’ve established — living in a toilet cubicle is definitely not my goal in life.

 

Surely people would be flocking to the bathrooms soon. It’s the end of lunch — it’s like peak hour for bathroom-use.

 

Any second…

 

Okay… soon…

 

Come on people. 

 

I can’t believe it. What is this place? 

 

Hogwarts yes, I know, but doesn’t anyone drink and consequently need to pee? 

 

This smells a lot like a case of Murphy’s Law. The one time you need mass amounts of people to be lining up to the toilet is the one time it is deserted. Much like the aforementioned “leaving wand behind”� syndrome.

 

Or how the one day you forgot to do your homework (not that I ever forget, but let’s just say hypothetically) is the one day the professor checks it? 

 

Life sucks, no?

 

Bang.

 

What the bloody hell was that?!

 

Yep. Explosion confirmed — the shrieking has begun.

 

Once there’s shrieking then you always get - … rapping?

 

“Yo check it out Hogwarts:  
We’ve got here houses — just four  
You know most of the story, but we’re here to tell you more.  
Ravenclaw’s smart and Hufflepuff’s cute,  
Slytherin’s as retarded as a blast-ended screwt,  
But there’s one more house that you should know,  
And that’s Gryffindor — we make the show,  
Here to rock your socks,  
And show those Slytherin co - people,  
We’re brave and proud,  
Not scared to be too loud,  
We’ve got the ideal mix,  
We’ll kick those Slytherin di — heaps,  
One day you’ll be like us maybe,  
But til then we say to you: GRYFFINDOR PRIDE, BABY!”� 

 

Hah! That’s right — GRYFFINDOR PRIDE. Oh wait — I’m supposed to be a prefect. Oh well, I’m stuck in a toilet cubicle. I may take a temporary break to enjoy the humour of the situation.

 

I wonder who did it, not that it isn’t obvious.

 

It’s probably the bloody Marauders again. FYI — the Marauders are the resident pranksters here at Hoggy’s. 

 

I have mixed emotions about them — they’re half annoying, half hilarious. I generally choose to display my disapproval rather than my amusement though, because after all I’m a prefect and I have to uphold school values and such.

 

I’m pretty sure laughing at the breaking of rules doesn’t fall under that category.

 

Anywho, someone has just opened the door! If I was not sitting down, I would totally do a victory dance. 

 

Unknown enter-ers (I can invent words as I see fit, thankyou very much!) are talking. Obviously I’m eavesdropping, it’s kind of hard not to in an otherwise silent bathroom.

 

“Bloody brilliant, Prongs! Worked a treat — did you see their faces?!”� Unknown Person One speaks.

 

Headless flying hippogriffs — that voice is male. Not to mention it sounds suspiciously like Sirius Black. I could have a hernia right here, right now.

 

(Chuckle) “Why thankyou Padfoot! But of course my ideas always work. I think the success of this particular one is emphasised by the sheer innovation of the prank. And who’d have thought something as simple as singing sludge,”� Unknown Person Two gloats (I would say speaks, but it’s too arrogant to be considered speech). 

 

I am almost certain that Unknown Person Two is James Potter. That prat has been chasing me for years. After a million rejections you’d think he’d get the picture. But alas! — it is not so. He insists on asking me out, as well as threatening anyone else who asks me out with no less than painful torture followed by the killing curse.

 

Thus, even if I did have other guys chasing me, they are somewhat driven away by the Boy Insisting That (being) Charming Helps (get me to date him). BITCH for short. 

 

Okay, so that abbreviation isn’t that great. At least it gives me a chance to call him a bitch. 

 

“I reckon. The Slytherins will be seething. Seeing their housemate say such things about their house. And it wasn’t just as simple as singing sludge — we had to get Remmy to freeze him remember?”�

 

“Speaking of which - isn’t Moony supposed to be along soon? He’s taking an awfully long time.”�

 

“Yeah. I spose.”�

 

“They’d better be along soon or we’ll get caught for this one…”�

 

“Erm, Prongs?”�

 

“…which’d be pretty bad because it’s such a success and all, and McGonnagal didn’t see us, so there’s no way we’ll get detention…”�

 

“Prongs!”�

 

“What is it Padfoot?!”�

 

I’m thinking the same thing. What is Black so uptight about?

 

I heard a gasp, then silence. 

 

The air is suddenly a whole lot thicker — you know how it gets when someone realises something? Yeah, like that.

 

Someone’s stepping closer. Fu - lobberworms. 

 

I am hereby abandoning my sense of hygiene and fully clothing myself due to a May-day. I have reason to believe Unknown Persons One and Two are approaching.

 

I will not suffer that kind of humiliation, especially in front of the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black.

 

The footsteps suddenly stopped. I think I’ve stopped breathing. That’s not good.

 

God it’s quiet in here — you could hear a pin drop.

 

Okay, so nothing’s happening.

 

Screw this, I’m not waiting any longer. I have pride and dignity and confidence. I am Lily Evans, for Merlin’s sake!

 

I open the door forcefully, feeling it connect with something hard.

 

Unknown Persons One and Two are no longer unknown. They are most definitely Sirius Black and James Potter (respectively), and they are most definitely… clutching their heads and displaying expressions of pain?

 

Oh right. I hurt them when I opened the door. Ha!

 

“Merlin, my nose! It’s disfigured! No longer am I Sirius-the-sex-God-Black.”� 

 

I don’t care how much pain he’s in — I can’t help it. I roll my eyes.

 

All Potter could manage was a loud grunt. Wow, how intellectual of him.

 

He looks really sore though. I’m feeling a tad guilty. I’d best apologise. 

 

“Sorry it’s just — I — you weren’t supposed to be there!”� 

 

Half way through my apology I decided it wasn’t really my fault. I mean, they shouldn’t have been right outside a door, which is bound to be opened.

 

“I don’t care where I was supposed to be! This is my nose here!”�

 

I mentally snorted (real snorting isn’t very becoming). He’s not self obsessed, not at all. 

 

“What he means to say is you look very stunning today, Miss Evans.”�

 

Aww how sweet — not! I gave him my best “ice cold glare”� (It’s so perfected I named it). 

 

“Before you ask — answer’s no.”�

 

“How did you know I was going to ask?”�

 

“Potter, when do you not?”�

 

“Touché.”�

 

Honestly, I know this guy too well. Pretty much every conversation we’ve had has consisted of him asking me out, and me refusing with some slightly scathing words, hoping to drive him away.

 

Black and Potter picked themselves up from the ground. Black examined his former sex-God nose in the mirror, pulling out his wand and stopping the flow of blood with a simple charm.

 

“And I’m back to sex-God status,”� Black announced, styling his hair and still checking himself out in the mirror.

 

I had another mental snort. He is so obsessed with his appearance, for a guy.

 

Woah, wait a second…guy. Black is a guy!

 

No I’m not stupid, what I’m trying to say is that he’s a guy in the girls’ bathrooms. And so is Potter. They’re on female territory! 

 

I nearly growled. Like, actually growled. 

 

“Wait a minute — what the hell are you guys doing in here!?”� 

 

A valid question if I may say so myself.

 

“Well, very simply — we’re hiding whilst waiting for Remus and Peter to meet up with us,”� Black answered honestly. Or what I think is honestly anyways.

 

“And just why are you hiding?”�

 

I know it’s a stupid question — but I want to hear them say it. That was I can used my perfect prefect authority on them. 

 

Potter feigned disappointment.

 

“Damn, did you miss the song Evans?”�

 

I pulled a face at him which was probably very ugly, but he just grinned at me. Bloody prat. Be repulsed already!

 

“No, I heard the song. Unfortunately, I was unable to see it. Care to fill in the blanks? If I was there what would I have seen, hm?”�

 

I put on the best tell-the-truth-or-face-my-perfect-prefect-wrath face.

 

Black examined his nails casually.

 

“Well, being the clever sods that we are - ”�

 

Haha. Sods indeed! I never thought I’d agree with Sirius Black.

 

“- we managed to body-bind Snape, shove singing sludge down his throat and allow him to rap our wonderful creation for the whole corridor!”�

 

How the hell did they manage to brew singing sludge? It’s such a difficult potion! Oh wait — they’re the Maruaders. They have Remus Lupin on their team…

 

They could do anything they liked and get away with it. Prank everyone in the school, and entertain people and get back at their enemies — especially Snape.

 

Oh hold on. Inner prefect kicking in right about now.

 

“You WHAT?”�

 

“Now, now Evans — no need to get mad. No one was hurt -”�

 

Potter had some nerve saying that. I walked over to the sink and began violently washing my hands. Perhaps that’s what cut him off. Or perhaps it was my angry ranting.

 

“I don’t care if no one was hurt, you broke about three school rules. Not to mention that Snape is, in fact, a human being — despite what you may believe. I ought to report you to McGonagall.”�

 

I crossed my arms to make me look a little more authoritative. 

 

“No you won’t Evans.”�

 

I snapped out of my authoritative stance immediately. 

 

Merlin, Black was so menacing. Part of me is actually really scared right now. Just that tone he uses! It’s perfectly freaky. He should really become a judge in the ministry or something — he’s scare the truth right out of anyone.

 

“Yes, I will. I can, I will.”�

 

Great answer. Oh well. I have an excuse — fear down to my bones.

 

I made to exit the bathrooms, but Potter blocked my move.

 

“Get out of the way Potter.”�

 

He smirked. Actually smirked. Why was he smirking?!

 

“No Evans, you can’t tell on us. It was a harmless prank and you’re making a big deal out of it.”�

 

“It is my duty as prefect to uphold school rules and make sure -”�

 

“Oh really? Who. Cares.”�

 

I glared at Black.

 

“I do!”�

 

I indicated to myself for emphasis.

 

“Evans, I swear — if you tell I will .. you’ll regret it.”�

 

Black had that evil glint in his eye. And I was suddenly very frightened. After all, with a surname like “Black”� you have to have the Evil Glint down pact.

 

The way he enunciated each word made me very aware of the fact that I was wandless in the girls’ bathrooms with James Potter and Sirius Black — not exactly people who didn’t know a few nasty hexes or whatnot.

 

“That sounded very much like a threat, Black.”�

 

Hopefully the coldness in my tone hid the terror inside me.

 

“Padfoot, cool it - ”� I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful to hear Potter’s voice “- Look, Lily, what will it take for you not to tell?”�

 

His features were completely serious, but I couldn’t be sure of his motives. He is a Marauder.

 

“Are you bribing me?”�

 

“No, I am merely proposing that we make a deal.”�

 

Okay, so he’s bribing me. I paused, considering the concept. 

 

Oh, I can’t resist a good bribe.

 

“Okay. What is this proposal of yours?”�

 

He gulped, rather visibly.

 

“I won’t ask you out for one month, if you don’t tell.”�

 

Oh my God. This has to be a joke. James Potter? Not asking me out?

 

“Are you serious?”�

 

“No, I’m - ”�

 

I sent Black the biggest “shut up”� look I could muster. Potter had done the same.

 

“Yep. I’ll stop a-asking you out for a month if you don’t tell McGonagall.”�

 

I contemplated this. I mean, if I tell McGonagall what do I get in return? Nothing. So…

 

“Alright.”�

 

“But if you do tell — you have to go on a date with me.”�

 

I don’t think anyone can grin lopsidedly quite like James Potter.

 

“Okay.”�

 

It was not like I was going to tell on them anyways. He was starting to look a little shocked by now, but he grinned even more.

 

“This applies to all our pranking though — you can’t dob on us, deduct points from us or give us detentions for any of our pranks. Deal?”�

 

Woah. That’s an awful lot they can get away with…

 

Damn Potter. He knows I won’t back out! And I won’t.

 

I sighed. How did I get here again? Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot my wand and James Potter was born.

 

I sighed again.

 

“Evans…?”�

 

Oh I guess I’d better answer him.

 

“Deal.”� I shook his extended hand.

 

“Am I free to go now?”� 

 

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”� 

 

He nervously ran his hand through his hair and stepped aside. 

 

I felt a secret stab of jealousy towards him — how was it that he could run his hands through his hair and still have it look perfect? 

 

Well. Admittedly it is messy…. But it’s a good messy! Hmph.

 

Realising I should probably stop staring at him, I cleared my throat and said goodbye. My mum says it always pays to be polite.

 

I walked briskly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, with the oddest feeling that this deal was the beginning of the end.

 

How dramatic of me.

 

A/N: And there you have it. Chapter one of my new Fic. I kind of need a name…since this one is gay and all — so suggestions are welcomed! 

Just so you know a bit about how I’m going to write this: As keen observers, you may have noticed that this is written from Lily’s point of view. The next chapter I am thinking will be told from James’ and then I’ll do some other characters (probably Sirius and Remus) and then go back to James and Lily’s perspective. I expect that this fic will be anywhere from 7-10 chapters depending on how much I can think of to write. Ha. 

Well, I hope you liked it — please review, because reviews equal love. 

\--- Michelle


	2. A Master At Work

A/N: So here’s the second chapter. Just before you read, it’s from James’ perspective, not Lily’s. And, obviously, I don’t own the Harry Potter series. Just thought I’d mention that because I forgot to last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one… I don’t think it’s that great — probably because I went to Billy Talent’s concert and I’m a little dazed at the moment (they rocked!). If you ever get a chance to see them — TAKE IT AND MOSH, my pretties. Okay, well that’s all from me. Enjoy!

 

Chapter Two: A Master At Work (in which Transfiguration lessons are fun!)

 

Sirius and I returned to the common room after our little run-in with Evans. We arrived to find Remus sitting with a book in his lap, and Peter staring into the unlit fireplace.

 

I fell into a seat, as did Sirius.

 

“We waited ages for you guys!”� Remus greeted us in what he probably thought was a warm tone. Unfortunately for him (and us, I spose), it came out rather angrily.

 

“Correction: we waited ages for you,”� Sirius said dramatically, indicating all over the place. I swear that boy has problems with saying things normally. He always acts like he’s on stage or something… drama king. I tell you — I constantly feel upstaged.

 

“No, we specifically agreed we’d meet here,”� Remus pointed to the floor, as if the gesture was proving what he was saying to be true. 

 

I noticed that we were technically arguing (Remus and Sirius were glaring at each other in frustration), and decided (like the dedicated and loyal friend that I am) to end it now before wands became involved.

 

“Hey — guys — cool it. Who cares? We just performed a highly successful prank. We should be celebrating!”� I punched the air as I said the last words, hoping to inspire my friends.

 

Unfortunately, instead of the desired “YEAH PRONGS!”� effect I was going for, I received three ‘you’re a retard’ looks accompanied by the type of silence in which you hear the crickets. Except that was kind of ruined by the other people in the common room. Still, the point is it would’ve been silent, and there would’ve been crickets. 

 

“I suppose you’re right,”� Peter finally said. 

 

I looked at him in shock — I had support. Hoorah! Good old Wormy, you can always trust him to agree with you! 

 

Sirius suddenly broke out into barking mad laughter. 

 

Now it was his turn to receive what was quickly becoming a very popular look — the ‘you’re a retard’ look.

 

“What?”� he said as if he had not just broken into hysterics.

 

I don’t think he can pull off sincere to save his life. 

 

“Our pranks rock,”� Sirius said.

 

I have to agree with him there.

 

“Yeah - that was the best prank you’ve ever thought of, Moony,”� I said, beaming at him.

 

“And it was perfectly executed — we’re not in any trouble this time!”� Sirius said, lighting up like a third-year discovering Honeydukes for the first time whilst performing his ‘victory dance of doom (whilst sitting version)’ (which was more of a spasm than a dance, and had absolutely nothing to do with doom).

 

Remus smiled, only hinting at the pride I knew he wanted to display.

 

“Thanks guys, but, as always — it wouldn’t have worked without my fellow Marauders!”� 

 

I sat in the following comfortable silence considering what he’d just said. It was true — we were a team, even if it sounds frightfully … homosexual. Nothing could come between us, I mean, we are the Marauders. We practically have theme music.

 

Once again, Sirius began laughing hysterically. I’m noticing he really has a bad habit of doing this… It’s a wonder girls aren’t repulsed by his apparent insanity.

 

He sobered up a little, noticing our inquiring looks, or rather our ‘you’re a retard’ looks.

 

“It’s just — Snape — his face - ”� he said trying to breathe properly, before promptly bursting into laughter again.

 

I chuckled. 

 

“I bet the Slytherins will give him hell for ages,”� and I do. There’s nothing Slytherins hate more than Slytherins hating Slytherins. Woah, that hurt my brain.

 

“Of course! He’s such a slimy git — even they know that…”�

 

Remus scowled slightly. Despite his hate for Snape, he still felt that respect is important. Even though he came up with the prank… but I think that was more to display his intelligence.

 

“Oh come on, Moony — you know it’s true!”� Sirius said, obviously noting that Remus was not as enthused by the concept of putting down Snape. “Won’t you have his expression stuck in your head for ages though? I wish I had a pensieve… then I could save it!”�

 

Remus broke his composure and joined in with our laughing at Snape’s expression, which Sirius was now re-enacting.

 

“I wonder how he manages to be so grotesque,”� I mused.

 

“Yeah, me too. See, I have this theory - ”� Oh no, whenever Sirius has a theory, it means everyone should hold their breaths and duck for cover “ — he’s a boy right?”�

 

I immediately wondered where the hell this was going. Knowing Sirius, it could be anywhere this side of Jupiter. On second thoughts, it could be anywhere any side of Jupiter.

 

Wait — that’s anywhere. Oh dear. I should really stop thinking.

 

“Well, ‘boy’ backwards is ‘yob’. And Alas! This is no coincidence!”� - Always the entertainer, he held up his hand with his index finger extended — “‘yob’ is like ‘yobbo’! So Snape is a yobbo! But he’s also a boy! See!?”�

 

My best mate has completely lost whatever he used instead of a mind.

 

“But you’re a boy, Padfoot…”� I jabbed him in the chest, more because I felt the need to than anything else.

 

“Ah, but that is where you -”� he jabbed me back, the prat “- my friend are wrong.”�

 

I raised an eyebrow.

 

“So you are a girl?”� 

 

I received a punch in the shoulder for that one.

 

“NO, you didn’t let me finish. I am not merely a boy, I am a man.”� He puffed out his chest proudly, as if what he was saying was actually true.

 

Remus snorted. Sirius glared at him. Peter looked completely and utterly perplexed by the entire situation.

 

I honestly don’t know how these people came to be my friends, but I suppose I’m glad they did.

 

“What?”� Sirius asked accusingly.

 

“Oh nothing,”� Remus said in a tone which clearly meant otherwise.

 

Sirius sniffed, and turned up his nose. 

 

“Fine.”�

 

Remus rolled his eyes.

 

Sirius did have a point.

 

No I don’t think anything of his insane theory! 

 

But Snape is a yobbo. I shuddered at the thought of his greasy hair and unnaturally long nose. I’d perform the killing curse if it meant I could get a pair of scissors and chop it off.

 

Except the satisfaction factor wouldn’t be worth touching his nose, or the time in Azkaban for performing the killing curse.

 

Remus leaned back in the chair he was sitting in.

 

“So what took you guys so long, anyway?”� 

 

I smiled dreamily, as always when Evans popped into my head (which was rather often). I didn’t even need to look to know that Remus was rolling his eyes.

 

“Let me guess? Lily?”�

 

Sirius nodded for me, then answered when he realised I was completely off the planet.

 

“He made a deal with her.”�

 

Yes, I did.

 

Remus raised his eyebrows.

 

“Oh really? And what would that involve?”�

 

“He doesn’t ask her out for a month, she doesn’t tell on us. If she breaks it then she dates him. If he breaks it… well I guess she tells on us.”�

 

Meaning: I’ve already won a date… with Lily Evans. 

 

“She actually agreed to this deal, or did you guys use your wands?”�

 

“No — she really agreed.”�

 

Remus hesitated in thought.

 

“How does this help his cause? I mean, won’t she still hate him?”�

 

Sirius shrugged.

 

“I have no idea.”�

 

He shoved me a little. Ow. That hurt. 

 

I looked to the source of pain. Oh, right. The real world.

 

“Prongs, how does your deal help your cause?”�

 

I smiled. I’d been thinking about this. I stretched my hands over my head casually and calmly, although I was bursting to tell them my master plan.

 

Because really that’s what it was. I am simply a master at work, and this is my Master Plan.

 

“Fellow Marauders: I shall have you know that I am the master!”� Why do I sound like I’ve walked out of some creepy sci-fi movie?

 

Sirius laughed at this.

 

“Wow Prongs, what a statement.”�

 

Great best friends I have… they have no faith in me!

 

“Well. I have a master plan: I am going to do extreme pranks.”� 

 

I waited for applause and compliments, but they never came. 

 

I rolled my eyes at their perplexed looks, and decided to elaborate slightly. 

 

“That way, Evans will need to tell on us, because she has that prefect syndrome of hers. And when she does tell, she’ll be breaking the deal and then she’ll have to date me!”�

 

It was now my turn to puff out my chest proudly. Like I said — I. Am. The. Master.

 

“Oh how brilliant. But you forget one thing — Evans will hate you for breaking the rules.”�

 

I frowned, slightly crestfallen. Trust Moony to bring reality into this.

 

“Well it doesn’t matter if she hates me — she still has to go out with me! And she won’t hate me after we date — who can resist this sexy beast?”� I ran my hand through my hair, to emphasise my point.

 

She won’t hate me once she gets to know me! All I need is a chance. And now I’m making excuses for myself… which means I have self doubt. Curses. James Potter does not have self doubt!

 

“You got the beast part right, but sexy is a lie. Sorry mate,”� Sirius said before snickering uncontrollably.

 

I should really get some new friends, shouldn’t I? My self-esteem, ego and pride have been somewhat damaged by these fellows.

 

Remus, however thought about what I’d said for some time.

 

“You have a point Prongs. At least this way you get a chance to show her that you’re really not as much of the prat as she thinks you are.”�

 

I beamed. My idea was good! Extraordinary! Mind-blowingly spiffing! My self-esteem, ego and pride have returned from their vacation and are now perfectly operational.

 

“So… what are you planning to do in terms of pranking?”� Moony questioned, always the one for details he is.

 

I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, to be honest. All I could think about was being on a date with Evans… hand in hand… smiling and laughing and snogging… it was a wonderful dream, really.

 

Sirius clicked his fingers in front of my eyes.

 

“Oh… I donno yet.”�

 

I really haven’t thought this through. But then it was all really a spur of the moment thing anyways. Plus, we always come up with great pranks.

 

“Well, you’d better think of some.”�

 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll think about it over sleep. I’m tired…”�

 

I stood up and said goodnight to my best friends before trekking up to the sixth year dormitories and collapsing.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I was hit with a sudden dread when I woke up the following morning:

 

I. WAS. PLANLESS.

 

Well, I did technically have my Master Plan, but my problem lied in the fact that I had no plans for my Master Plan.

 

So therefore, I repeat: I. AM. PLANLESS.

 

Planlessness meant grumpiness, which meant I was irritable all morning.

 

My mood remained in such a state of frustration, that even whilst in Transfiguration (my top and therefore favourite subject), I was completely sidetracked.

 

Not to say that normally I wasn’t sidetracked, but I was particularly sidetracked today.

 

So sidetracked, in fact, that I didn’t hear McGonagall say my name.

 

“Potter!”�

 

I snapped back to life before looking sincere and asking “what can I do for you professor?”�

 

Unfortunately, McGonagall was one of the few teachers who didn’t fall for my charming manner.

 

“You can pay attention in my classes and move next to Miss Evans — she’s your partner for today’s lesson.”�

 

Did she just say that? 

 

If dropping my jaw and pulling a superb expression of disbelief wouldn’t make me look bad, I would have done it.

 

I pinched myself, realised it was actually happening, then picked up my books. I looked over to see Evans, who looked utterly thrilled to see me (note: the use of Potter sarcasm).

 

I sat myself down next to her, and smiled handsomely, ignoring the tiny butterflies in my stomach.

 

“All right, Evans?”�

 

Nice, Potter. Now play it cool.

 

“Let’s get one thing straight: we are going to work. Got it? I need to work.”�

 

Well hello to you too. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. Mentally, of course — really inhaling and exhaling would make me look absolutely mad. Thus, a mental inhale/exhale was required.

 

I held up my hands in surrender.

 

“Woah. That’s fine. No need to have a fit!”�

 

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. This girl is a tough cookie.

 

Once McGonagall had started to blab about what the lesson would involve, I automatically switched off again. Transfiguration had to be the easiest subject in the world.

 

I stared boredly out the window, right through the middle of the left Quidditch goal post. The scratching of Evans’ quill was driving me slightly mad. She is ever so studious.

 

I felt a kick in the back of my leg and turned to see Sirius indicating to my books. I looked at them, wondering what the hell was wrong with him (a regular pattern of thought when he was concerned) and noticed the tiny piece of parchment. Sirius’ scrawl read:

 

Why so angry? It’s Transfiguration, if anything you should be bored out of your brains.   
~Padfoot.

 

Did I really look angry? I used the tip of my wand to erase it, then picked up my quill and under the pretence of writing notes about what McGonagall was talking about, I scribed a response:

 

I don’t have any pranks. It’s Murphy’s law: when I need a good prank, I’ll never think of one! And yes, I am bored… but I get to sit next to Evans, which is always a plus. Except that I have no pranks and therefore my Master Plan will fail, and I will lose her forever!  
~Prongs

 

Slightly dramatic, but Sirius is reading it, so it should be fine.

 

Yeah, you’re a lucky prat, being sat next to Evans. And you really are, because you have me as a friend…  
~Padfoot

 

I snorted quietly at this, which I immediately regretted, because I received a kick in the leg and an elbow in the ribs. 

 

The elbower, or rather Evans, raised her eyebrows accusingly.

 

“You shouldn’t be writing notes in class,”� she hissed.

 

This sounds an awful lot like the start of one of our many war-of-words. I can’t deny that I love these, and I’m sure she does too… deep down.

 

“You shouldn’t be bothered by other people’s personal business.”� 

 

The score is even…

 

“If you didn’t make so much noise, I wouldn’t care, but you’re being a royal distraction.”�

 

And she bounces back. Damn. She’s gonna kill me for this one…

 

“Am I really that good looking?”�

 

I grinned crazily.

 

She flushed. I winked at her to see if I could get her angrier.

 

I expected her to come up with a mind blowing insult, but it never came.

 

She simply closed her eyes, breathed twice, then returned to McGonagall’s rambling. How odd. How very odd. Not once has she ever retreated from a battle of words.

 

Bloody women! They’re damn confusing. And I’m good looking… imagine what the physical-appearance-ly (for lack of a real word) challenged blokes have to deal with?

 

I returned to my Sirius notes. Hah! I so just thought a Sirius-pun. I should remember never, ever to tell him that…

 

And why is having you as a friend so great? ~Prongs

 

Because, Prongs my boy, I have a little thing I like to call an idea ~Padfoot

 

This sounds dangerous, and risky … and stupid. You two should be concentrating. Particularly you, Prongs. You’re sitting next to the girl you’re trying to impress! ~Moony

 

Shush Moony, I have a BRILLIANT idea … ~Padfoot

 

Okay, Padfoot, we get it! So what’s this idea of yours? It better not contain nudity and celery sticks (yes I remember that idea of yours).~Prongs

 

I was getting anxious and I need to know his plan NOW. I thought I’d throw in the warning to make sure he wouldn’t joke.

 

Hold on to your wands fellers! — oh dear, don’t think about that one too long — 

 

PADFOOT. PLAN. NOW.

 

You know what? Because you used capitals, I’m think I’m just gonna do it.

 

Oh no, nononono. He cannot screw up my Master Plan.

 

Don’t you dare Padfoot!

 

Padfoot, you will get in SO much trouble!

 

Both Remus and I didn’t get a reply, because Sirius had pointed his wand out the window and hexed an unsuspecting first year, who promptly fell off his broom and began to plummet towards the ground.

 

“PROFESSOR! Look, out the window —”� Sirius shouted, jumping to his feet and pointing.

 

“Mr Black, if you honestly expect me to believe - MERLIN’S BEARD!”�

 

McGonagall shrieked as she looked out the window and saw a mob of angry first year Slytherins and Gryffindors break out into a fight. 

 

It seemed that someone had broken the Gryffindor first year’s fall, and that the rest of the Gryffindors believed that the Slytherins had hexed him. Basic hexes and curses were flying all over the pitch.

 

Sirius is a crazy git. Obviously his plan was to get McGonagall to leave the classroom.

 

“E-excuse me, it has become apparent that I am required on the Quidditch pitch,”� McGonagall said before swiftly exiting the room.

 

I turned around to face Sirius, and ask what the bloody hell he was doing, and effectively hex him, but he had already made his way to the front of the room. 

 

My brain was screaming “May Day, May Day!”�.

 

The whole class wore expressions of shock and confusion — I don’t think they’d quite gotten over the violence amongst the first years yet.

 

Sirius cleared his throat, rubbed his palms together and beamed at us.

 

“How y’all doing?”� He greeted, extending his arms in a welcoming fashion.

 

My friend is completely mad. Flying mad. In-sane-ly mad!

 

“Padfoot, what the hell are you doing?”�

 

“I’d very much like to know that myself,”� Evans said from beside me.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes as if it were perfectly clear what he was doing. I could stab him with my wand, but that would break it and probably cause minimum damage to him.

 

“Well, you see, we are a group of 16 year olds - ”� Evans snorted at the stupidity of that statement, “- left to our own devices in an empty class room for probably about… half an hour.”�

 

“…so?”� I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

 

“So, I just happen to know a spell or two — and I say life’s too short so let’s PARTY!”�

 

Before anyone could protest (not that anyone really was, in fact many people had cheered at his declaration of disco), Sirius had made the perfect party scene. 

 

The front of the room had been completely rearranged to cater for a dance floor, and a shiny disco ball hung from the roof. The windows had been blacked out using some sort of spell that I didn’t know Sirius knew, and I assume he’d put a sound-proofing charm on the room too. The feature of his perfect party scene were two large speakers, which had immediately begun to pump out loud music.

 

I have no idea how he managed to perform such complex magic so soon, but apparently he could. If only he knew the magic he needed to this well — he’d be the best wizard in the school. 

 

Sirius has many talents. One of them involved his social skills — he was amazing with people. Which explained how the whole class (excluding one Lily Evans and the rest of the Marauders) had taken up his party offer and were now dancing around as if they’d had a whiff of some Gillyweed. 

 

I made my way through the bodies to where Sirius was chatting up a girl I didn’t even know went to Hogwarts. 

 

I grabbed his elbow and pulled.

 

“SIRIUS WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ALL ABOUT?”� I yelled above the music.

 

“WELL, YOU WANTED A PRANK? NOW YOU CAN GO TALK TO EVANS,”� Sirius shrugged.

 

I’m not really sure how he thought this was a prank, or how I would be able to talk to Evans without losing my manhood, but I decided that I shouldn’t get mad and kill my best friend in such a public place.

 

Far too many witnesses…

 

I turned, intending to find Evans and follow through with Sirius’ idiotic plan to talk to her (which would most likely end in me experiencing a great deal of pain). 

 

I’m not sure how it exactly happened — all I know was that one second I was on the ground, and the next I was standing on top of McGonagall’s desk, next to Sirius who had acquired a microphone.

 

“Young ladies and blokes of… Transfiguration! Just to liven things up a bit, we have a special act — JAMES POTTER! Please make him welcome.”�

 

My. Best. Friend. Is. As. Good. As. Dead.

 

Everyone was screaming and cheering, which made me wonder how the hell Sirius had gotten them to be such a good crowd. I had absolutely no choice, the microphone was in my hand — 

 

“Er, hi there… I’m James Potter!”� I grinned charmingly and gained a little more confidence when people started to clap.

 

“Yes…well. I hope you’re all enjoying the party! Because it’s not every day that you get to go crazy in a classroom without anyone caring.”�

 

I was suddenly hit with a revelation. My Master Plan would succeed! Because I had an idea. A brilliant idea… all I have to do is get Evans embarrassed, so she’ll get pissed of and then tell McGonagall, effectively winning me a date. Simple.

 

“You know, as great as this party is…there’s one thing this party needs to liven it up, and that’s some dancers! So, to start off, I nominate …Mr Sirius Black, myself and Miss Lily Evans!”�

 

I gestured to the back of the room, where Lily was standing with her arms crossed her chest.

 

At the mention of her name, her face wore a shocked expression which quickly turned into the scariest death glare I had ever seen.

 

That woman was going to be terrible to live with when we were married — I mean, imagine if I didn’t do the dishes, or make the bed properly… This calls for serious action. Perhaps a promise to myself?

 

I, James Potter, hereby pledge to be the perfect husband to Lily Evans in order to avoid glares similar to the one I just received.

 

There, glad I cleared that up.

 

By now Sirius had joined me on stage and was doing… odd pelvic thrusts.

 

“Come on, Miss Evans, we’re waiting!”� I prompted her, desperately needing someone to save me from Sirius’ dancing antics.

 

By now the studious-sixth-years-turn-outrageous-party-animals had started to appreciate the idea, and were now chanting “Evsy Wevsy”�. Some people close to her at the back had begun to tug on her arms.

 

Eventually, they had her on the stage that is McGonagall’s desk standing next to Sirius and I.

 

“I will bloody kill you for this Potter,”� she gritted.

 

I simply grinned at her.

 

“Now let’s party!”�

 

The crazy partiers cheered.

 

I think I’m beginning to realise why Sirius is so crazy all the time… it’s fun.

 

Lily looked like she was about to explode with anger. I ignored this, and joined in the Macarena that Sirius had started. 

 

“Come on Lils! Have some fun!”� I said whilst placing my hands on the back of my head.

 

“I. Am. On. McGonagall’s. Desk. I will not do the Macarena,”� She said through gritted teeth.

 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”�

 

“Non-existent, and even if it were this isn’t really an adventure if you ask me.”�

 

“But you’re on stage. And people on stages simply do not leave their audiences unsatisfied… come on, dance!”� 

 

I grinned pleadingly. If that’s possible… I don’t know if it is, but that’s the general effect I was going for.

 

Evans looked like she would love to castrate me with the nearby microphone chord at this point in time. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, obviously exercising some restraint.

 

“Okay — you have to teach me though,”� she finally said.

 

I was completely shocked. How can you not know the Macarena? And how come she’s not embarrassed out of her mind?

 

I looked at Sirius. Sirius looked at me. 

 

I mouthed the words ‘oh my God she doesn’t know the Macarena’.

 

He nodded. Bloody hell.

 

I shook my head then mouthed, more precisely, ‘she doesn’t know the Ma-ca-re-na’.

 

He made a face of understanding, then mouthed back what looked like the word ‘yoghurt’. 

 

Sweet Merlin, we’re supposed to be Marauders… and here we are failing at the art of word mouthing. 

 

Abandoning hope in Sirius, I looked at Evans, who was patiently (or rather, angrily) waiting for me to teach her the dance. 

 

“Right. Well it’s simple really — just watch me and you’ll get it.”�

 

I demonstrated it for her once, and she got it straight away. My lord this girl is fabulous at picking things up quickly.

 

After about half an hour of Macarena-ing, I pulled Lily off the stage with me.

 

“See, that wasn’t too bad!”� I said rather breathlessly, due to half an hour of dancing the Macarena.

 

“No, it wasn’t…”� She smiled.

 

Actually smiled. Lily Evans smiled at me. 

 

If I died right now, I’d die happy.

 

We had a party in Transfiguration, Lily Evans smiled at me and she can’t tell on us! 

 

I smirked, remembering our deal. 

 

“You know, you can’t tell on us…”�

 

She scowled. Uh-oh. Why did I blow it?!

 

“I know. And I won’t — believe me. But Sirius shouldn’t have hexed that first year!”�

 

I desperately wanted to draw the focus of the conversation back to the fact that the party was great, but just as I was about to do so Peter began having a fit.

 

Looking up from a dirty piece of parchment — the Marauder’s Map — he shouted at the top of his lungs “McGONAGALL’S COMING!”�

 

Lily, the Marauders and I began wildly charming the room back to its original state. In about fifteen seconds, we were all sitting in our seats, pretending to work.

 

McGonagall burst into the room, slightly preoccupied. In fact, I think she looked like she’d just had a battle with the Whomping Willow. She reached her desk at the front of the room, paused and turned to face us.

 

“Well, this is most impressively surprising,”� she praised us, “how very responsible of you. Fifty points to Gryffindor.”�

 

There was a cheer from the back of the room somewhere.

 

“Imagine what great leaders you will make next year!”�

 

Sirius rocked. The Marauders rocked. I rocked. We had turned an illegal party into free house points — does it get any better?

 

I looked at Lily from the corner of my eye, and felt warm and fuzzy when I saw that a smile was creeping onto her expression of disapproval.

 

I felt a swell of pride, for no particular reason.

 

But that’s to be expected — after all, I am simply a Master at work.

 

I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of my day, which was turning out to be better than I’d thought it would.

 

A/N: And there you have it — Chapter Two. Let me know what you think… Once again, I don’t think this chapter was as good as the last — I’m not as good with James’ perspective… but I’ll work on it.

 

Well, that’s all from me. Reviews please, lovies.


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